


In Which Race Eats A Whole Ass Plate Of Weed Brownies And Proceeds To Make Slime In The Bathtub

by imjusttheoutgoingsidekick



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: I'll add more tags later, M/M, Swearing, Weed, albert is a hardcore stoner, like Deb, tw: he's high
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 19:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18598288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imjusttheoutgoingsidekick/pseuds/imjusttheoutgoingsidekick
Summary: Exactly what's on the tin.





	In Which Race Eats A Whole Ass Plate Of Weed Brownies And Proceeds To Make Slime In The Bathtub

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelazyhero_ttums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelazyhero_ttums/gifts).



It was three forty-seven, and Race heard a knock at the door. "It's open," he called, standing up to see who was knocking. 

Albert rushed in, shoving a plate at his best friend. "I made brownies but I gotta get to work so you can have them thanks bye-" he spoke fast before turning to leave. 

"Why don't you just take them to work," Race called after him. 

"My co-workers are assholes who don't deserve them. Have fun!"

With that he was gone, and Race was left with a plateful of delicious looking brownies. He closed the door and laughed quietly, picking one up and taking a bite. 

Damn, they were good.

When one brownie was finished, he found himself reaching for another. Before he knew it, the entire plate was gone and he was giggling uncontrollably, licking chocolate from his fingers. 

His vision was fuzzy at the edges and insanely sharp at the center, and the colours were crazy bright. He reached for his phone, mindlessly pressing play and listening to is favourite album: AJR's The Click. 

He closed his eyes and listened, hearing not only the music, but the steady tick of the clock on the wall too. The horns honking down on the street. The neighbour's TV, they were watching Love, Simon. 

Soon enough he was bored. He stood up, laughing at the abstract art hanging on the apartment walls. He made his way over to the shelves, opening up the little jewellery box and taking the money out.

Race turned back around, heading to his bedroom and grabbing the wallet box out from under his bed. After what felt line a twenty minute period, he finally decided on his Gay Pride wallet. When he checked the time, he noticed it had only been five minutes. A laugh bubbled up from his chest as he stood up, kicking the box back under his bed. 

Back in the kitchen, Race grabbed his keys, slipped on his blue and white checkered Vans, and headed out the door.

Half an hour later he was back from the dollar store with an amazing haul. 

Five gallon bucket of Glue. One medium sized bottle of Gain Original Laundry soap. A pack of 16 different colours of glitter. Three bubble guns. A large bubble juice refill container. One individual hard boiled egg. The movie A League Of Their Own. 

Race sat the bags down in the bathroom and opened the top to the glue bucket, plugging the tub drain before pouring it all in. He then sat the bucket in the sink and turned the water on, seeing as the recipe called for equal parts water and glue. 

As it filled, Race picked up his phone and texted Jack. 

Racer: I need as much shaving cream in you can find.  
JackyBoy: Yeah sure man be there in 20

Race giggled and began muttering some poetry he had memorised back in eighth grade as he dumped the water in and stirred it with the wooden spoon. 

"One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret, Never to be told. Eight for a wish, Nine for a kiss, Ten for a bird, You must not miss. Eleven is heaven and twelve is... Something... But thirteen beware its the devil himself."

After a while of stirring, he added the detergent. He cranked up some music, and waited for Jack to get there. 

Finally, he heard the door unlock. "IN THE BATHROOM!" 

Jack walked in, seeing Race's red eyes. "Are you high?"

"I think so." Race shook his head, then nodded. "How'd you do that so fast?"

"You're high so you probably won't remember this," Jack laughed to himself, "I made copies of everyone's keys." He handed him a plastic bag with about twenty cans of shaving cream. 

"Lit." Race turned around and began spraying shaving cream into the bathtub. 

Jack looked down, "what are you even-" he started, but paused. "You know what, I'm not even going to ask. Have fun man."

Jack left, and Race was left to finish his creation. 

******

Spot entered the apartment after a long day of classes and work, ready for a shower. He heard loud music coming from the bedroom, but thought nothing of it. He quickly stripped and began to step into the shower, his hand reaching to turn on the water.

But before he could- "SWEETHEART." Spot shouted towards the bedroom. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?"

The music quieted, and Spot heard footsteps running down the hall. Race jumped into the room, spraying two bubble guns at his boyfriend. 

Spot shouted in frustration, sitting down on the toilet lid and picking light blue slime off of his foot. He looked up at Race, who had put the bubble guns down and wan now letting his eyes wander all over Spot. Upon closer inspection, he noticed Race's nails were painted purple and he was wearing eyeliner. 

Race giggled reaching out towards his boyfriend. Spot saw where his hand was going and quickly swatted him away. "Are you high?"

"Like a fuckin' kite babydoll."

Spot sighed, standing up and pulling a towel around his waist. "Albert?"

Race nodded, "he gave me a plate of brownies, and it turned out they were pot brownies," he laughed, sitting down on the rug and running his fingers through it and humming fNot Your Seed from The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals.

Spot pulled out his phone an called Albert's work. When he finally picked up, Spot could barely form a sentence. 

"You- why- I swear, Albert-"

"Hey!" Albert interrupted, it's not my fault."

"It is ENTIRELY your fault!"

"I figured he'd know! I'm high, like, all the time!"

"Surely not ALL the time."

"I'm high right fucking now man."

Spot ears a muffled 'language' from Albert's manager, and decided this was a good time to hang up. 

He looked down at Race, who was braiding together the tassels on the towels. He looked up, his eyes wide and red. "Are you mad at me?"

"A little!" He shouted, and saw Race flinch. He let out a sigh, "but I could never stay mad at you."

Race smiled and stood up, kissing him right on the lips. Spot grinned and wrapped an arm around Race's waist.

"So, how much is it?"

"Ten gallons."

"Jesus Christ."


End file.
